


one, two, three

by mxmyth



Series: Eternal Winter Campaign [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Eternal Winter campaign, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Silver needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxmyth/pseuds/mxmyth
Summary: You know so many things. You don't understand anything.
Series: Eternal Winter Campaign [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636795
Kudos: 1





	one, two, three

**Author's Note:**

> This work explores a ptsd episode and contains child abuse and depictions of death, including the death of a child.

You move as if on puppet strings so that Cinder can stand over the snow genasi. She whimpers and begs for her life. Your pulse is a roar in your head as you let this happen. Three magic missiles crackle to life and impact with heavy thuds, one by 

_One. You're watching your first execution. You try to watch the beetle scurrying across the courtyard tiles instead, but the Lady's fingers force your chin up and your face forward. The cold iron lifts and reflects the twilight. His eyes meet yours as the sky falls across his neck in a perfect arc. You are still young, but you know that this is your fault. You know that someone has died hating you. You do not know that he would only be your first._

_Two. You try to hold onto her, but you are too small. You are both so small, barely a mouthful each. There is nothing you can do but hide. You curl up tighter and clap your hand over your mouth so that you don't scream when the tearing starts and her screams stop. They find you there hours later, joints locked up, eyes unseeing. They pull your hands away from your ears. They tell you that it's dead, that you're safe. You know now that you have never been—and won't ever be—safe._

_Three. His life is warm and sticky, and everywhere but where it should be. You press your hand to the wound and you pray, you beg, but there is no magic for you now. He dies quickly but you are taking your time. Through the blur of blood you see her, hesitating. Or is she admiring her work? Liar. Murderer. Sister. Darkness is pressing in. You scream your promise so that she knows that you have lost, but so will she. You know that she has heard you._

You don't remember turning away, but you must have. The next thing you know is the brush of cloak against your cheek and Zada's scent; ocean and ozone, leather and steel, warm skin and her hair.

You make your way back, remind yourself when and where you are. You breathe. You avoid Deria's stare and force yourself to look at the way that the genasi is already melting, to see the berries in her outstretched hand.

You know so many things. You don't understand anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Just Silver is mine, Cinder belongs to Leanne, Deria belongs to Maeve, and Zada belongs to Goldie.  
> The world they adventure in is mastered by the lovely Potato.


End file.
